


What It's Like

by L122ytorch



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 20:15:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11836233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L122ytorch/pseuds/L122ytorch
Summary: Mulder asks Scully what a woman's orgasm feels like after getting incredibly drunk at his 28th birthday party...and immediately regrets it.





	What It's Like

It was a dumb question. One that he did not expect Scully to actually answer. 

They were at a hotel in some god-awful, middle of nowhere, po-dunk town in the panhandle of Texas. And it just so happened that while they were on the road chasing phantom suspects, Scully discovered that it was Mulder's 35th birthday. Now don't think that Mulder hadn't planned to go out and get shit-faced, he did, he just hadn't planned on doing it with Scully. 

But she confiscated him, whisked him off to some bar in Amarillo, and he actually enjoyed himself. By one a.m. they had downed eight drinks between them, rode a mechanical bull and two-stepped. It was time to call it a night.

They called a cab to take them back to the flea motel and both FBI agents collapsed on a couch around 1:30. Scully contemplated getting up and dragging herself to bed, but she was drinking in every moment of Mulder like this. He was looser, funnier, flirtier, and the shine of saliva when he licked his lips made her stomach curl with some indescribable feeling.

The night seemed somewhat normal, so imagine Scully's surprise when Mulder turned his alcohol muddled mind towards her and asked what it was like to have an orgasm as a woman.

Scully thought about many ways she could respond to such a naked question, but settled on the response that would fuck with him the most.

She cleared her throat and turned towards him, a look of seriousness overtaking her features. It completely surprised Mulder when Scully hummed and huffed a laugh.

"It's indescribable, but I'll try," she said, an octave lower than usual. She now had Mulder's full attention.

"Which kind of orgasm should I describe?" she smiled like the cheshire cat. Not giving him a chance to answer (his mouth was too dry anyway) she launched into her torturing of him. "Well first, there's this unfurling of a twisting pleasure, low, beneath my stomach. It's there when I get aroused. Like when you plummet down on a roller coaster and your stomach jumps? Except it feels warmer, and richer, and it makes me instantly wet." 

A strangled sound of anguish and desire twisted in the back of Mulder's throat. If he seemed three sheets to the wind before, now he was sitting prostrate, eyes glued to Scully's face, his brain hanging on every syllable and twitch of her smile.

Dana made another sound as she bit her bottom lip, it sounded like she just tasted a decadent chocolate, raspberry mousse and was savoring it's flavor. 

"And that's just arousal," she scanned Mulder over with her wandering eyes. "Then there's the clit orgasm..and the vaginal orgasm...and those wonderful times when it's both. Ah!" she poked her finger up in the air as if she were giving a lecture at a university. "And then there are the orgasms that follow other orgasms. The first one will feel a certain way, but the second one feels different, as does the third...and fourth."

"How...how many have you had in a row?" Mulder squeaked. 

"Four. Sometimes I even have them in my dreams."

Mulder was now careening forward, a look on his face so priceless that Scully wouldn't trade it for the answer to, 'are aliens real?' And the best part? Everything she was saying was the truth. 

"If I don't uh...find release...often enough, orgasms seem to find me in my sleep. And it just amazes me how I'm not even touching myself and yet...am having the most earth shattering orgasms in my sleep."

"When was, the last time, you had one of those?"

"Last week."

"Oh. Tell me more. Are orgasms better with a dick?"

"Depends who owns the dick," she laughed, her scarlet hair bouncing around the frame of her face. "The best orgasm I've ever had was at my own hand."

"With toys?" he was practically salivating, not even trying to conceal the erection tenting his trousers.

"Nope...with porn. And my hands smell so good after I play with myself."

He shifted on the sofa.

"Dana Scully watches porn?" he said incredulously. 

"Surprised?"

"Very. What gets you off the most?"

"Brunettes," she teased, staring at him pointedly, lightening the mood until it brought him to a bubbling laugh. "Well...that and a pussy full of cum," she deadpanned, his laughter coming to an abrupt halt.

"Which kind of orgasm feels the best?" he asked, pupils blown wide like a black hole.

"They're all good. It's like having several different flavors of ice cream...they're all ice cream, they're all wonderful."

Absentmindedly, Mulder began palming himself through his pants and it was driving Scully nuts. Just who was torturing who here? 

"I can make myself cum in five minutes...or less," she licked her lip.

"How," he growled. 

"On my stomach, with my hands. I never touch my clit, it's too sensitive."

Fox's head was lulling to the side, looking at her like a starving man would gawk at a steak. 

"How old were you...when you first fucked?"

"Seventeen."

He hummed in appreciation, trying to imagine Scully, a decade earlier, pulling some math nerd into a closet and rocking his world. 

Mulder unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, carefully gauging Scully's reaction, but she wasn't backing down.

"But my first orgasm was way before that. I kind of...accidentally found my "happy spot" as a kid. So I've enjoyed two decades of orgasms."

"Bu...you're you're 27...so..."

Her laughter reverberated around the room.

"Want to know what my favorite thing to do is?"

He nodded fervently, freeing his erection from his boxers, his hazel eyes never leaving hers. 

"My favorite thing...let's say you're in this example...my favorite thing would be to lay you out on the bed, taste every inch of you, stroke your cock while I suck and kiss your balls." 

Mulder was now squirming, beads of sweat forming at his temple, his hand setting a feverish pace stroking his dick.

"And when I get you so worked up that you feel like dying...I'd lube up my fingers and slide one in your ass...hushing you, telling you to relax around my fingers, distracting you by licking your head and when I hit your prostate..." Mulder was practically arching off the couch, moans pouring from those pouty lips. "It's the best feeling...it's so warm and soft...and when your balls tighten and you're about to cum, your prostate gets harder and I can feel the orgasm shake through you like an earthquake...so I suck you into my mouth and swallow down your cum."

Fox Mulder's breath was shaking, his movements uncoordinated, eyes glossed over in ecstacy. "Dana..." he grit out her name through clenched teeth as ropes of cum stained his shirt. 

She burned into her memory the way he said her name. It would come in handy later...many times over. 

"Fuck...who are you?" he rhetorically asked his partner of two years. His eyes had fluttered shut, she stared at his long brown lashes and observed the way his eyes skated beneath the thin veil of his eyelids. His cock was lying limp on his trousers, hands abandoned at his sides. She felt an overwhelming desire to lean over and kiss him and lick the trickle of cum that remained on his dick. 

This was backfiring big time. 

She kissed him on the cheek, whispered "Happy Birthday" in his ear, and walked towards the door that separated their adjoining rooms.


End file.
